


Hell Is Where the Mind Is

by megslittlehellhound



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abuse - Future Mention
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-05
Updated: 2014-01-12
Packaged: 2018-01-07 12:57:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1120078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/megslittlehellhound/pseuds/megslittlehellhound
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean's stuck in his mind, alone, and battling his self-hatred.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The sand fell between his toes again, as he took another step forward on this beach. The sun got hotter every minute, but he had to keep moving. The only problem was, well, the beach looked and felt like it went on forever. Ocean to the right, sand to the left, behind, and ahead.

“Huh, maybe I’m in Davy Jones’ locker.” Dean said to himself, smiling, “God I hope they find Calypso then."

He kept walking along the sand. He was hungry, thirsty, and tired. He could’ve slept, but every time he thought about it, he got a bad feeling, so he didn’t sleep.

He’d been here for three days. There was nothing to eat, no fresh water, and nowhere he could sleep. He didn’t know what to do. He was scared, alone, and confused. He had no idea how he got here, but he kept moving; he had to get home. 

The sun beat down on his back, but Dean kept moving. Moving, moving, and moving. He got a few miles further before his knees buckled, he fell face first into the sand. 

A voice boomed over him, “Dean Winchester, are you giving up? Already?”

Dean couldn’t tell who the person behind the voice was, it was fuzzy, and like a memory, but he answered in the tone he always does, “Never, you bitch.”

He pushed himself up off of the ground, grunting and groaning in pain. The voice laughed at him. Dean thought about Sam, Kevin, and Cas as motivation. Family, people to go home to, because they are his home. “Oh, don’t worry about them, Dean. You’ll never see them again. Face it; they’re good enough without you.” It said, reading his thoughts.

“Where the hell am I?” Dean shouted out. He figured if this voice was going to chat him up, he could at least get something out of it.

“Oh Dean, haven’t you realized? We’re _in your mind_.” The voice answered. 

“No, no. This isn’t my mind. And you’re not me!” Dean shouted back, shaking his head in angry confusion.

The voice chuckled, “Well, you have one thing right, I’m not you. Well, not exactly. I’m your memory of _him_. I’m your self-loathing, and I must say, I love my job.”

Dean made a face at the voice, there was no general direction from it, but he didn’t care.

The voice laughed again, “I’m the memory of your father, and everything he did to you.” And at those words, the voice became clear, it was John’s. 

Dean started shaking, “I’m not doing this. I want out! Do you hear me!? I want out!” he shouted.


	2. Cliffhanger

Dean wanted to run; but he had no idea where to go, and he knew that if he was in his mind, like the voice told him, he didn’t have anywhere to go. His senses were on high alert. He could feel his heartbeat in his throat, like someone was pounding a hammer against it. He wanted to run, hide. He wanted to take the exit off of this road and never look back. 

He couldn’t. It felt like his feet were glued to the ground, his body felt like cement. Instead of running, he crumpled to the ground, putting his face in his palms.

The voice laughed at him for that, it boomed over him, adding to the lead in his veins. “You’re nothing, Dean. Never have been, never will be.” 

The air left Dean’s lungs, every witty come back he could ever think of disappeared right then. The voice spoke again. “I’ll leave you for now, Dean, have fun trying to survive.”

The weight Dean had felt was now gone, and he ran. The sand started to stick to the soles of his feet when he started to sweat. He had run a half mile from where he talked to the voice. With only sand, sun, and ocean, it made it hard for him to know when to stop running, to rest.

Even then, he was scared to. The last time he had stopped, the voice came. He doesn’t want it to show up again. He was forced to anyway, after almost falling off of a cliff.

He saw it was a cliff, just a millisecond before it would’ve been too late. He watched grains of sand fall hundreds of feet below him, and gulped. It didn’t help that while he was running, his adrenaline masked his hunger and thirst, now that he’s stopped, his stomach feels like a black hole, and his throat as dry as the sand beneath his feet.

He got disoriented, he tried to move away from the cliff, but his feet disobeyed, and he stepped off of the cliff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You didn't realize that when I titled this chapter "Cliffhanger" that I really meant it, did you?


	3. Sustenance

He found it easier to relax, the farther down he fell. He’d fallen about four hundred meters, body completely lax, keeping calm in the face of death.  
But it didn’t come.

He’d fallen about eight hundred meters at this point, before feeling like he’d landed, but he was still breathing. It took him a moment to register that someone was holding him. A someone with black hair, blue eyes, and a trench coat.

He let out a sigh of relief, “Thanks, Cas.”

Cas just flew them up faster, not answering.

“Cas.”

“Dean Winchester, shut up.” The gravelly voice replied.

“What? Why?” Dean made a face; he was confused, tired, thirsty, and hungry. It was a bad combination and Castiel was making it worse.

“I am just a figment of your mind, Dean. It created me to keep you from dying here.”

“But, if I’m _in_ my mind, how can I die?”

Castiel, or not-Castiel, sighed. “You are in your physical body, inside your mind.”

“How does that work?”

“All you remember is a witch zapping you, Sam, Kevin, and the real me, before you saw black and woke here.”

Dean was about to ask another question, but Not-Castiel vanished, and Dean was alone again.

Dean started walking. His steps were wobbly, and it took all he could not to fall. He wanted to keep going; he _had_ to. For Sammy, for Cas, and for Kevin. 

He eventually did fall, after about half a mile. The sand felt like glass against his face, his lungs were on fire, and his stomach was a pit, desperately aching to be filled. He stayed lying there, for a moment, letting some thoughts gather.

That’s when he realized, _he was in his mind._ He could control his mind, right? He figured he would need something simple on his stomach, and some water. He concentrated as hard as he could, and it happened. An apple and a bottle of water were on the ground in front of his face.

He started to laugh. This was all too insane, and he’d seen insane, it wouldn’t come near something like this with a fifty-foot pole. 

Dean reached his arms out to grab the apple and water bottle. They didn’t disintegrate, rot, melt, or vanish. They were _real._

He found the strength to stand up after that discovery. He took a small bite of his apple, and a sip of his water. 

He felt invincible; he hoped to everything that it could last.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't have any day of the week set that I'll be updating, but it will most likely be around the weekend, since that's when I get more free time.


End file.
